Midnight Shadows Guided Games GENEsis: DOFP Genesis In Character Days of Future Past [Mutants] Victorian Secrets [Kira / Benji]


12-30-2018
05:39 PM
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12-30-2018, 05:39 PM
Victorian Secrets [Kira / Benji] [Post #1]
Victorian Secrets

It's never a dull moment in the theatre. Benji can agree to that now, kidnappings and people getting shot. After he got Elise back to the theatre just in time, he had watched Kira do her thing and then the others had come back and she was employed to do more healing. Get them all back in fighting shape, well sorta.

Benji figured they had taken enough from Kira for now, after raiding the liquor stash he had grabbed two bottles of scotch and then Kira. "Come on healer girl, you've done enough." They had snuck away, Benji guiding her to a storage room behind the Amphitheatre that was filled with old theatre props. Clothing, statues, art, pieces of decor... it even had an old living room set up between the racks of clothing, hidden from anyone who might want to peek inside. There was a couch, table, and an armchair on top of a rug. It looked almost Victorian.

RULES
* For Kira [Fred] & Benji [Ellen] initially. Crashing is allowed.
* All GENEsis and Board rules apply.
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01-02-2019
06:14 PM
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01-02-2019, 06:14 PM
[In-Character] [Post #2]
It was just as draining as it could ever be, yet unlike when she was held with the humans, she felt somewhat accomplished. She was part of something that worked to help her kind, even if she had put that girl back together, pushed that bullet out of her chest and made sure she could breathe again. That girl didn’t have to choose to be there, but for some reason thought it a grand idea.

Washing blood out from beneath her fingernails didn’t make her quite as sick as it once had, it was a simple ask no different than if she were to scrub paint away. It was always just red. She had shut off the tap when one of them, Benji, had baited her into following after him. The promise of the bottle in his hands welcome enough.

She hadn’t honestly seen much of the theater, so when he led her through the actual amphitheater, she took stock, appreciated the structure, the vaulted ceiling painted something reminiscent of the sky, the ornate fixtures that held the lighting, the subtle curve to the spines of the seats. It must have been something to see it in the light, to have wandered down the aisle he was leading her down in anticipation of some show to occupy one’s focus for a few hours, just to escape.

Benji pushed a down open, hand at the knob and shoulder near the frame, and she followed without question. There was an odd sense of familiarity and trust amongst these people that she had never felt before. They asked her things, inquired about her state, deflected her from overuse of her abilities, sought to keep her well enough without it seeming a necessity. They wanted her in decent condition just because. It was a learning curve, she wasn’t going to lie. Humans had made her suspicious as she had voiced in the warehouse, yet Benji and Sam had sought rather ardently to dispel any misgivings she sought to harbor.

When he ducked through a clothing rack thick with articles, a faint tuft of dust scattering in his wake, she frowned. She was not going to hide in a clothing rack like a four-year-old running from its mother. When a hand appeared, beckoning, she folded her arms until it waved her through after him and she sighed, giving into curiosity.

She was going to get sick just from dust inhalation. Surely, it was little better than asbestos, her healing factor aside.

Finding a sitting area through the fabric was not what she had expected. It was small, cozy, and quaint, to say the least. And it was just as lovely as the amphitheater had given itself to be. The couch was chesterfield in appearance, curling arms, deep seating. She immediately moved towards it, turned, and then flopped into the welcoming cushions, scattering a thin smattering of dust, prompting a chuckle to rise up from her throat. “Quite the escape.” She commented as she waved at the hazy space just before her. “I think you need a cleaning lady.”
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01-02-2019
07:31 PM
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01-02-2019, 07:31 PM
[In-Character] [Post #3]
Benji had found a goldmine in this theatre. Or so he thought. He had always been the curious one, always finding hidden spaces where he could hide away. Where he could just sit in silence and not be Franklin for once. Where nobody was looking at him like he could blow up the world without blinking.

He had done much the same here, found himself a hiding place where he could go if he didn’t want to be around people. Because here were a lot of people. Sam and Amara knew when to leave him alone but … They weren’t alone anymore, they had been accepted by the others in the theatre. Mostly because Sam’s sister was here and could vouch for him. Made him think of his own sister. Wondering where the little brat was hiding out. She hadn’t been in touch with him for a while, any normal family would be worried but Benji knew that she could handle herself.

So, he had found this room after just a few hours of searching, full with props and costumes and he had grinned his face off. It was perfect for hiding away, and he had started to fill it with things that he could keep himself entertained with. Mostly booze. The two bottles in hand were only to add to his stock.

After everything that had happened tonight, after watching Kira do her thing with Elise and then moving the girl to an infirmary bed where she was getting fluids to regain what she had lost. Kate had stalked in moments after, looking grim and taking up shop next to the bed. Watching over her friend? Still not sure what was going on between those two.

He had left, snatched two bottles of booze with the intent of going to hide out for a while, when he had spotted Kira. He had observed her for a while and now he was bringing Kira along. Right. Why would he even think about doing that? She had looked like she could use a break.

Benji ducked through the clothing rack just then, ignoring the dust that tried to make him sneeze but Kira wasn’t following. He stuck his hand back through, waving at her to come through.

He stepped back when he felt the clothing move and she was finally stepping through. He grinned at her, watching her take it all in before she dropped herself into the couch. It was still covered in dust, so it was no surprise when it rose up from the seating. He couldn’t help but chuckle as well. “it’s my quiet space. Figured you could use one as well.” He was no fool, they would call on her for her healing abilities whenever they could.

“If I got a cleaning lady in here, everybody will know my hiding place.” He looked appalled, did she not get the concept of a secret hiding space? He unscrewed one of the bottles he had brought along, taking a long swig from it before sitting down next to her.

“Besides, I can clean it myself.” He handed the bottle over to Kira. “Sorry, no glasses yet.”
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01-03-2019
07:01 AM
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01-03-2019, 07:01 AM
[In-Character] [Post #4]
“Of, you’ve claimed it already, have you?” How long had they been there, a couple of days? A few at best? And he had already found some quiet little hole in the wall that remained seemingly untouched even by the inhabitants currently residing. And yet, he was offering it up for her use as well, some place to escape to, to hide out. She was willing to offer her ability when appreciation was offered and the safety was available, and because it was the right thing to do, but she was aware that there were likely going to be moment when she wanted to be away from everything.

And a tiny hide out would likely bait her back.

She snorted at the idea of him cleaning the space himself. His attitude and personality left a lot to be had in that department. He was too much a frat boy for her to think he would ever pick up a duster or vacuum. Though, perhaps his parents had offered such instruction, she honestly had no idea so she couldn’t really pass judgement just yet. It would be a waiting game then, to see if he followed through and at least alleviated the room of the dust that sought to cling to it.

She watched him unscrew the top off of one of the bottles and she glanced at the label, then seemed taken aback when he lifted it to his lips for a hearty gulp. When he handed it to her, she accepted it, but struggled to make herself move any further.

Ladyburn.

“This…is a fifty-year-old bottle of scotch,” she told him as calmly as she could manage, “and you tossed it back like it was some random hooch you picked up at a local corner mart.” She honestly felt insulted for the alcohol.

Carefully, she lifted the bottle up towards her face and inhaled slowly through her nose. “I might have to beat you.” She told him before she lifted it to her lips and took a drink of the smooth warm burn that coursed its way down the back of her throat. “Who did you even get this from?” And she took another appreciative sip.
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01-03-2019
08:30 PM
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01-03-2019, 08:30 PM
[In-Character] [Post #5]
Of course, he had claimed it already, this was his pad now and he might share it with a few more but so far Kira had been the first. She should feel special, he hadn’t even invited Sam yet. Next would be indeed cleaning, it might be still a bit dusty. Just a bit.

He waved away the dust bunnies still wafting up in front of his face. Okay maybe a bit much dusty.

Kira called him out on the scotch, telling him that it was a fifty-year-old bottle and he rubbed his chin. “It is?” So that’s why it tasted pretty good, he grinned and shrugged. “I told you, no glasses yet.” When she continued being aghast about how he had just tossed it back. Maybe he should have looked at the labels before he took them, but then again. This was good stuff. “You might have to beat me?” He started laughing.

Watching her take a sip anyway, and then ask where he got it from anyway. “I might have found a secret stash, that isn’t so secret.” He told her, and he might have gotten help with it as well. Little red-haired girl who had told him exactly where to find it.

She had been adamant that it was fine if he took a few bottles from that stash but not every day. Or her uncle Victor would be pissed.

And nobody pissed off Victor Creed.

“Don’t be a hog.” He told her, reaching for the bottle she was still holding in her hands.
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01-04-2019
05:54 AM
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01-04-2019, 05:54 AM
[In-Character] [Post #6]
Another sip and she closed her eyes as though it would better allow for her to appreciate the taste. She had usually likened herself a tequila drinker, but that was for warmer weather, whiskey in whatever form was made to keep you warm.

Yes, she might beat him, was that so difficult to believe. He had maybe six inches on her, plenty of weight refined well enough, but his awesome abilities liked to turn weapons into chicken legs and bullets into confetti. How would he really fight back? She would heal any injury he could make, intentional or not. Maybe he could blow glitter in her eyes and send her stumbling all over the room. She snorted at the thought, then took another drink, somewhat more generous.

Secret stash, pfft. It obviously wasn’t very secretive. Unless he had been trying to warp his toothbrush and ended up with a bottle in its place. Useful, that would be, she might applaud him such a fuck up.

When he tried to take the bottle back, insisting she not hog it, she frowned, a smile threatening to pull the corners of her mouth upward, and tightened her grip. “Rude.” She drew it closer to herself, his hand around it and all. “You handed it to me and there’s another bottle on the table.” Because he had lifted two from the ‘super-secret stash’. “And now you’re just going to pluck it out of my dainty little fingers?”

She stuck her lower lip out and batted her lashes a few times to accentuate exactly how that made her feel. “Please, sir, I want some more.” She tried in her very best British accent.
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01-04-2019
02:13 PM
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01-04-2019, 02:13 PM
[In-Character] [Post #7]
Benji was met with resistance, her grip tightened around the bottle and she called him rude. She even managed to pull him slightly forward when she drew it closer to herself. He started grinning when she pointed out that he had handed it to her and that there was another bottle on the table. He couldn’t help but laugh when she asked if he was going to pluck it out of her ‘dainty little fingers’.

“That was the plan, yeah.” He told her but backing off when she started to pout and batting her eyelashes at him. Benji snorted, releasing the bottle when she started using a British accent and quoting one of the most famous lines out of Oliver Twist.

“Fine, you have yours and I’ll have mine.” He reached for the other bottle he had brought and looked at its label. Benji saw that he had taken another old one and started grinning. Unscrewed it and sniffed it in appreciation. Something he hadn’t done with the other bottle but he could be ‘lady like’. Taking a sip he felt the liquid burn down his throat and started smiling.

Should he tell her that he had more bottles stashed away in here? Neh, maybe later when she tried that cute British accent again.

He took another hearty swig from his bottle and sat back, watching her for a moment. “You know, I’ve been wondering…” He started, taking another sip. “…How come you didn’t escape those humans?” Because he had seen what she could, what her powers did to the humans and she could have used it as a distraction.

“Because if they all react to your powers like Kate did…” He pondered out loud, taking another sip from his bottle. “…you could have turned them against each other.” He gave her another look, shifting enough in his seat to not stir up any dust but giving him a better view of her.

“So why didn’t you?”
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01-04-2019
09:21 PM
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01-04-2019, 09:21 PM
[In-Character] [Post #8]
When he relented her the bottle, she smiled something smug, and lifted it back to her lips for another drink. She watched him pop the top of the other bottle, let herself scan the label, and her eyes about rolled right out of her head. Who the hell kept such bottles tucked away? And how many were there? Seriously, either the purchased them before the distillery closed or they had nothing better to do with whatever funds they had at their disposal. It was her new goal in life to figure out exactly where Benji had lifted the pair from.

The moment he opened his mouth again, and let his thought hang half strung together, she narrowed her gaze at him, almost daring him to spit out something stupid. Why didn’t she-

“What?” She had to have misheard him.

If they all reacted…she frowned when she thought of the brunette and the way that she had rubbed herself all over Sam Guthrie, like a cat in heat. It was very telling of the type of person she was and could be when she was intoxicated. Probably best not to let that one out on the town for drinks and laughs.

“For starters, don’t be an asshole, I was just starting to like you.” She sat forward onto the edge of the couch and fought the urge to pout. “Second, it doesn’t affect them all the same way. Some are somewhat docile, giggly, and horny, others are aggressive jerks.” She took a drink and had half a thought to throw the bottle across the room at him. Her hand tightened around the neck and she set it down on the table instead before she pushed herself to her feet. “Third, it’s not an infinite thing. I get tired. Yes, I have an amazing healing factor of my own that kicks in to compensate, but I’m not about to tax myself into a coma. Wouldn’t exactly be able to run free if I’m unconscious.”

Then she moved towards him, intent on leaving him there all by his stupid self. “You think I never tried?” She shook her head. “Just because my body heals the wounds and scars, doesn’t mean they were never there. DO you know what it’s like to have a bullet lodged in your throat?”
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01-04-2019
09:49 PM
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01-04-2019, 09:49 PM
[In-Character] [Post #9]
So, apparently he had asked the wrong thing. As he had told Sam many times before, Benji wasn’t good with the women. He always managed to piss them off in some sort of way. Like right now. She called him an asshole, but she also said she started to like him. He could work with that. How did one recover from being an asshole? He wasn’t sure he could but he was up for the challenge.

He took another swig from his bottle, listening to how her powers worked and how it affected differently for everyone. Well that sucked, balls. He watched her get up, and yes, she was angry with him. Way to go, Benji! He thought to himself.

She was actually ranting at him and it was… cute? Sexy? Horny? All of the above? Oh, yeah.

But wait? She had a healing factor of her own? Did that mean she couldn’t get drunk? That would be a shame. Kira moved towards him, asking him if he thought she had never tried to escape. And then she was talking about wounds and scars and how they had healed. He frowned, they had shot her? What?

His eyes moved to her neck, not seeing the scar of course but he could imagine it. That made him angry. Why would anybody want to hurt this woman? He sat his own bottle down on the table, took her by the arms and planted her back on the couch. He did not want her to leave like this. Not in anger. Not with him. That did not sit well with him at all.

“I’m sorry.” He grabbed the bottle she had abandoned and pushed it back into her hands. “I know how it feels like to get shot. Except I still carry the scars.” He shifted his shirt up, just enough to see the round scar the bullet had left. Then he moved to his right arm, pushing up the short sleeve enough to show another round scar on his shoulder. “There are more, but you get the drift.” He gave her a lopsided smile.

“Don’t leave. It wasn’t my intention to imply you hadn’t tried. Just curious.” He grabbed his own bottle and took a healthy drink. Before looking back at her, and going back over her words.

“So, does that mean you can’t get drunk?”
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01-05-2019
12:16 AM
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01-05-2019, 12:16 AM
[In-Character] [Post #10]
It felt like drowning, she wanted to tell him, her own blood filling upward and spilling down into her lungs, hampering every attempt she had made to draw in a breath and having to either claw it out with her own fingers or wait for her own healing factor to push the foreign object out. That was how it felt. And she had had to be conscious the entire duration. Blacking out would have been a mercy her body hadn’t allowed for.

Hands around her arms and she wanted to shrug them off. Did he really not think before he opened his mouth? Or had he thought he was posing a simple question rather than an inquisition? She shook her head, even as he guided her back to the couch and convinced her body to follow him downward until her bottom settled back on one of the cushions.

An apology and a bottle of booze. How nauseatingly 90s romcom of him. Let me offer you my apologies and then try to get you drunk.

You show me yours, only she had nothing to show. She would never have anything to show. Sometimes that was the very problem.

He tugged at his shirt and she wanted to snap at him until he revealed a very familiar looking scar branded into his skin. Then another up high near a shoulder. So he was more than just a mouth without a filter. She could remove them, but he didn’t need to know that. Not yet, anyway. He hadn’t earned that.

She huffed when he implied he wished her to remain, then frowned when he pressed on, asking if she was incapable of getting drunk, then. Of course that would be where his mind went. “It’s doesn’t last long.” She finally admitted. “A bottle like this,” she held the scotch he had pressed back at her up before him, “maybe two, three hours tops.” She looked at the bottle he had set down and noted that the contents of his were lower than hers.

“Race? See who sobers faster?”
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